Can't Sleep
by lindsayandhalstead
Summary: Two-shot. Erin can't sleep with Jay out of town, so he has to find another way of getting her to sleep. "What are you wearing?"
1. Can't Sleep

**A/N: Since you had no complaints about smut, here you have some more. This is a smuty two-shot that starts with Erin not being able to sleep and Jay "helping her" over the phone, and ends with Jay coming home in the second part.**

 **Hope you enjoy, and let me know!**

* * *

She can't sleep.

Even the carefully laid-out pillows around her are not helping. She feels frustrated, and tired, and god she misses him. There is still a dent in the pillow, from where he rested his head two nights ago. Then he had to go work a case. In New York of all places. She's not particularly aching to go back to the Big Apple, since nothing good ever happened to her there. But it's killing her that he is there, and she is, well, here. In bed. Supposed to be sleeping. Except that she's not.

It was the same last night. Tossing and turning. All night long. If she doesn't get any sleep soon, she doesn't know how long she'll be able to function. Besides, this is ridiculous. She is perfectly able to sleep alone. She has done it all her life.

She groans in desperation, picking up her phone from the nightstand. She promised herself long ago she wouldn't be one of those girlfriends who would get all clingy. She despised those girls in high school, and she's sure Jay would have called if he had the time. He was working on the case late last night, so all she got was a message good night.

She throws her leg over the blanket and sighs. The hand holding the phone is getting sweaty, and she's overall so hot. She gets up to open the window and gets back in bad. She hears every single noise when attempting to sleep. The dripping of water in her neighbour's apartment. The sirens in the distance. Everything keeping her from the sleep she so desperately craves.

Then the phone in her hand vibrates, and the picture appearing on her screen makes her heart stop, but in a good way. She presses the _answer_ button and presses the phone to her ear, biting her lip.

"Hey," she murmurs.

"Hey you," he chuckles back. "How was your day?"

It was horrible, she wants to say, because you weren't here. However, she swallows the bitterness left over from the court appearance, in which the lawyer destroyed the prosecutor's witness so badly, that even her testimony didn't help put the killer behind bars. As hard as it is, she has to accept, that sometimes, the bad guys get away.

"It was fine," she lies smoothly. "Yours?"

"Great." There is a brief pause, and she takes a second to revel in the fact that he's on the other side.

"How is the case going?"

"It might be a couple more days," he sighs. "There has been some new evidence. We're waiting for the lab results."

She needs to pick up some sleeping pills or something. But most of it is addictive, and she doesn't really feel like going down that hole again. Maybe some tea will make her sleep. She lets out a barely audible sigh.

"What's wrong?" He asks finally, stunning her surprised. She didn't realize he would know her lie over the phone. In person, she would never even try to hide her distress, because he knows her, but she didn't realize just how much.

"My day actually sucked," she confesses at last, because he has ruined her defence wall with one simple question. "And I miss you. And I can't sleep."

She misses the things he would normally do to her, to make her day better. How he would massage her back, and trail a path of kisses all over her body, causing her to go lax under his touch.

"I wish I was there," he murmurs. "I bet I could make your day better." It's almost as if he can read her mind.

"Don't say things like that," she complains. "I'll never be able to fall asleep."

"Maybe I can help," he offers softly, almost carefully, and she knows what he means. And she never thought she would be doing this, but she feels hot and bothered and desperate.

"Like how?" She gives him the go ahead.

"What are you wearing?"

She glances down at herself and smiles. "Your shirt. The last one you wore. It smells of you."

Jay misses her so much it hurts. He considers going home just for the night, and flying back in the morning, but he knows it would be a waste of time. Time, he should be spending solving the case, so he can get back to her sooner. He wishes he could do this in person, but he can't, and he wants to salvage her day anyway. He closes his eyes and imagines her, lying in bed, wearing nothing but his shirt.

"Leave it on." His voice gets huskier, and she knows he's getting turned on by thinking of her. She presses her cool hand to her burning cheek. Her heart is pounding in expectation of what is coming next. Her mouth dries up. He can do that to her. With just one sentence, she is completely aroused.

"I wish I was there," he says breathily.

"What would you do?"

"I would kiss you. I would kiss you long and hard. Making you forget the bad day you've had at work."

She can imagine it. His lips on hers. She closes her eyes and lets her head fall back into the pillow.

"Then, I would kiss your neck. The soft spot under your ear. The one that always makes you writhe."

She touches the spot with her finger, imagining her lips sucking on the soft skin. Her mouth parts slightly, and a moan escapes. Her hand settles on her stomach, going higher until she reaches her breast. She feels her nipple harden beneath her touch, or maybe it's because of his husky voice.

"I would suck your nipples through the shirt you're wearing. My shirt." The tone of possessiveness does not escape her. "Then I would kiss you more, and more, until you were desperate under me."

She feels pretty desperate now.

"I would touch you, over your underwear."

Her other hand moves down, and does exactly that.

"I can almost feel how wet you are."

"Yes," she murmurs, because he's right. She's soaking wet, and she can feel it through her panties. She rubs her slit. Her teeth catch her lips between them, attempting to bite back a load moan. She fails, and she hears his sigh on the other end.

"Are you touching yourself?" He asks breathily. "Are you rubbing it through the fabric? Like you know I would?"

"Yes," she gasps.

"Take them off," he instructs and she does. "Slide them off your legs, slowly." He swallows loudly. "Now touch your clit."

Her fingers finally slip between the silken folds. She craves the elusive release, but knows that he's going to get her there. Her eyes are closed, and if she tries, she can almost imagine it's his fingers. She moves them in a familiar rhythm. Their rhythm.

"Go faster," he whispers, imagining her vividly. He's so hard it's almost painful. But this is about getting his girl to sleep.

Her fingers rub her clit almost frantically, desperate for the release she has been craving all day long. Her free hand is teasing her breasts, and her hips are bucking up, desperate for other kind of contact.

"Jay," she whimpers. "Please." She doesn't know what she's asking of him, since he's not actually there to do anything. But he knows what she needs.

"Add another finger," he murmurs hoarsely, and hears the load scream that follows soon after.

"Ahhhh!" If she were not too far gone to care, she might have been ashamed of that scream she let out at the end, when her whole body shook with spasm after spasm.

He smiles, picturing her sprawled over their bed, her eyes still blurry from the orgasm she just had.

"You okay?" He asks after a few minutes of silence, thinking maybe she fell asleep.

"Mmmhm," she murmurs almost incoherently after she comes back from the oblivion. She smiles, though it's mostly for her benefit, since he can't see her. "Thank you."

"Anytime. I mean that."

"Do you want to?" He knows what she's offering. To return the favour.

"Not this time. This time was for you." His voice makes her heart ache with missing him. "You think you'll be able to sleep now?"

"Definitely," she admits, already drifting a little.

"Then we'll talk more tomorrow. Sleep tight," he says while she can still hear him.

"Hurry up and come home?" She asks, before ending the call and wrapping herself in the sheets, drifting away to peaceful slumber.


	2. I'm Home

**A/N: I'm so glad you enjoyed the first part! I felt like I needed a cold shower too, after writing it, so it's only fair.**

 **And yes, I do so wish he'd call me too. *sigh***

* * *

He has never been more anxious to get home.

He misses her, of course he does. He misses their banter, her flirty smiles, and even her complaining over his cooking, despite the fact she can't boil an egg. He misses the intimacy of their relationship; the moments where she leans in, simply to brush her cheek against his; or when she takes sips from his coffee, even though she has her own cup. Overall, he misses everything that is her.

And after the phone conversation they had two days ago, certain parts of her body miss her even more. He feels the familiar twinge in his pants, and then the twinge in his heart, as the cab pulls over in front of their apartment. She doesn't know he's coming home because he wants to surprise her.

He enters with his key, which he has had for a while, even before he moved in officially. He pulls the suitcase in behind him. At the sound of doors closing behind him, he hears the approaching of her barefoot steps on the floor. The suitcase forgotten, he takes two steps forward until he sees her. They both come to a halt, a slight blush spreading over her face, which he finds oddly adorable, but also sort of arousing at the moment.

He vividly remembers the sound she made when she came. The throaty moans that were his torture for the last day or two. His mouth dries up, and he feels his heart beating faster.

"You're home," she murmurs, and he has a slight feeling she was going to add _finally_. He takes pleasure in knowing she has missed him just as much as he had missed her.

He closes the distance between them, pulling her closer. It feels like crossing an electrical field. The tension between them almost palpable. He kisses her softly, surprising himself with having enough restrain that he doesn't push her against the nearest wall. However, the softness doesn't last, and his kisses become harder, more demanding, and then even harder when she responds by moaning into his mouth.

His hands wrap around her wrists, pinning them to the wall behind her, while his mouth moves down across her neck. His knee pushes between her legs and she instinctively parts her legs for him. He looks at her then, breaking the kiss. He's looking for a sign of reluctance, or that he's overstepping her limits, but all he sees is wild lust.

"I'm home," he murmurs against her skin, before kissing her again. His tongue inside her mouth feels so intimate, and so right. He pulls back, and then his hands drop hers, moving to her waist. With one swift move, he spins her around to face the wall. She whimpers, and he can feel her hard breaths. His hands settle on her hips and he pulls her back into him slowly, inch by inch. Instinctively, she flattens her palms against the wall, as his body pushes against hers, grinding. He groans when he feels her bottom, rubbing against his groin.

"Fuck, Erin," he breaths into her ear. Her hair tickles his skin, they're so close together. His hand grasps her hair, tugging her head back so he can reach her neck. His teeth graze her skin with more strength he intends to, but she doesn't seem to mind. Her head leans back onto his shoulder, and he can feel her pushing back against him.

His hands go around her waist, pulling up the shirt she's wearing. She doesn't change position, and he only pulls it up high enough, so he can touch her breasts. The sudden invasion makes her knees buckle, and she is glad that she has the wall to support her.

He should get her to the bedroom, she deserves as much, but as he presses into her, he forgets all that is proper. His hands move with skill.

"Jay, please."

He pushes harder against her, causing her teeth to bite down on her lip in desperate frustration. He knows she can feel how hard he is from the back, and he knows what she needs. He releases her long enough for her to get rid of her shirt. As soon as it's off, his hands are back, possessive on her skin.

Her hand sneaks down, cupping her through the leggings. From the sound she makes, he almost finishes right then and there.

"Jay!" She shudders under his touch, gasping in surprise.

"Shhh. Let me finish what I've started," he breathes against her neck. He doesn't mean right now. He means what he has started two nights ago. Or maybe what she has started.

He slides down her leggings along with her underwear. He leaves kisses on her skin, murmuring words. Synonyms for beautiful, as many as he can recall. He worships her body with his hands and his lips, bringing the heaven a little closer to the woman he loves.

His fingers move with purpose, and he uses all the knowledge he has about her body. He teases her with light touches, stimulating the areas he knows are sensitive, until she's whimpering against him, and that is when he finally strokes her clit. He holds her hips still with one hand, while the fingers of his other hand move in teasing circles.

She lets out a strangled gasp, and it's about the only thing she can manage. His fingers move mercilessly, driving her closer to a rushing orgasm. He feels her body shake under his, before finally going limp.

She cries out, like she did two nights ago, leaning heavily on him. He marvels in the fact that this time, he can actually hear her, and feel her, and see her. There is no distance between them, preventing him from taking what he wants, or what he needs.

She is still coming down from her high, when he turns her, kissing her again. Her naked body provides a startling contrast to him being completely dressed. Apparently, she realizes this, because he can feel her hands working the buckle of his belt.

They stumble to the couch, while she manages to get rid of his clothes, and they almost fall on top of each other. He pushes her down, his weight pinning her against the couch. She's looking up at him with so much trust, and so much love, that he can't resist the urge to kiss her again. Sometimes he thinks that her kisses are all he needs to survive. That if her lips are just touching his, everything is okay.

Her hands fights its way down his body, desperate for the feel of is skin under her fingers. She's almost frantic in her explorations, but he doesn't even break the kiss. Her fingers manage to find a way to caress the hard abs of his stomach, and then they continue their path down. She finds him, more than ready, and when her hands cup him, he thinks he's going to die.

That is the final straw. Without being able to wait any further, he shifts, lining up with her, and then finally pushes inside. It feels like something he has been waiting for his entire life.

He wishes he could make it last forever, but they are both too close for that. The time apart has taken its toll on both of them. His thrusts become deeper, as he buries himself in her with reckless abandon, over and over again. He can feel her nails clawing at his back, and her hips bucking up, meeting his.

It is a blur; too fast; too urgent. His pace pushes them both over the cliff, and it hits them with the force of a hurricane. The only thing he can do after that, is collapse on top of her, waiting for his breath to come back.

"I've got to say, if being away gets you this worked up… Maybe you should go away more often," she teases softly. She feels him chuckling under her. His chest vibrates against her naked body, and she finds herself loving the feeling.

They are still cuddled up on the sofa. Both of them are pretty sure their legs are not back to being functional yet. At some point, he's pulled her on top of him, so he wouldn't crush her. He looks around now, seeing a broken glass on the floor, and pillows scattered around the couch. He didn't see it before. He didn't register the sound of crushing glass either.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" This isn't like him, to be rough with her, but being away just made something inside him snap and lose control.

"Do I look hurt?" She asks, her voice light, and almost playful. It reassures him, knowing she would have stopped him if she felt the need to.

He raises his head to look at her. Her skin is still flush against his, her hair is a mess, and there is a special glow around her. He guesses they weren't kidding about the post sex glow. He chuckles again.

"No, you look… thoroughly fucked, for the lack of a better word." Now it's her time to snort at the comment, as she does imagine her state leaves her activities to no imagination.

"That's exactly how I feel," she murmurs in a low, lazy voice.

They lie there, wrapped in each other's arms, while their breaths become slower and their heart rate normalizes.

"You know, I still owe you one," she murmurs. Her voice is low, throaty and so sexy he closes his eyes.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

But it's too late. She is already moving downwards, and he can feel blood circulating his body again. He swallows hard, seeing her biting her lip in anticipation.

By the time she finishes, or rather he finishes, he considers the favour well returned.


End file.
